


a silver crown

by beanpod



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Football, Blow Jobs, Cock Piercing, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanpod/pseuds/beanpod
Summary: Hoseok’s seen it. They’re roommates and they’ve been in each other’s pockets since freshman year and there was a point when there was only one working shower in the hall and, honestly, no one really knows what boundaries are anymore in the lockers either, not after years of this.Besides, Hyunwoo’s not necessarily as shy as he pretends to be.
Relationships: Lee Hoseok | Wonho/Son Hyunwoo | Shownu
Comments: 10
Kudos: 120





	a silver crown

**Author's Note:**

> i have all the regrets but zero energy to think 'bout them, ja feel
> 
> god, the amount of complaining that went into this. unbelievable. a huge thanks to @baozisdragon who helped look over this... thing. all mistakes remaining are most definitely my own.

It’s not like Hoseok actively thinks about it. There are times when the thought of it idles at the back of his mind while he’s doing stuff: while he’s following directions at the gym or on the pitch, or when he’s listening to Coach rattle off new formations—even while he’s busy, with deadlines up to the neck and essays and projects and exams and that irritating little twinge at his lower back after practice.

Hoseok thinks about it on purpose, sometimes, while he’s alone in the lockers, or when he’s sitting at the furthest seat in a lecture he happens to share with Hyunwoo and all he can see is the back of Hyunwoo’s head, or while they’re working on new plays and Hyunwoo _moves_ , the ball sure at his feet and all of him larger than life.

Sometimes, he thinks about it while Hyunwoo gets ready a couple feet next to him, slow with the day’s tiredness and still trying to rub off a crick on his shoulder, cranky because Changkyun stole the last dumplings at lunch that day, and Hoseok watches him, the way his back moves, his fingers, everything about him soft and blurred with sleep, a contrast to how he usually carries himself—because after years of friendship Hoseok knows this for certain: there’s the Hyunwoo that _owns_ the pitch and then there’s the Hyunwoo that gets pissy because he hasn’t had any snacks after practice that ran too long.

What Hoseok thinks about the most, though, is how it actually happened.

And the thing is, okay, it wasn’t really his fault, because Hyunwoo could’ve called bullshit and walked off instead of slapping Hoseok’s shoulder and saying, “Fine, let’s do this, then,” with that stoic, captain-like face of his. It’s Hyunwoo’s own fault for being a man of his word, really; Hoseok didn’t actually push Hyunwoo into the shop—if anything, he tried to stop him and drag him away, back to campus, but Hyunwoo’s as big as him and just as heavy and Hoseok’d been buzzing with adrenaline and lack of sleep _simultaneously_ so his brain-to-hands coordination had been pretty shot to hell.

Hyunwoo’s also stubborn as all fucks. Hoseok’s no better, that’s a hard fact, but still, he _tried_. That, at the very least, should be on the record.

Years later, apparently it’s still “his fault” that Hyunwoo got his dick pierced. Like Hoseok didn’t say, very slowly, “Hyunwoo, if Coach finds out he’s gonna pierce _your balls_ with a fucking _chopstick_ , do not go into that room with the lady and the piercings.” More than _once_. And then followed with, “If your dick falls off please do not tell anyone, keep it to yourself,” while Hyunwoo—the actual fucker—chuckled and waved him off.

“So you getting your nipple pierced is alright but me doing this is not,” Hyunwoo had deadpanned, arms crossed over his chest and face set on Captain Mode. It hadn’t been fair of him because Hoseok’s actually fond of Captain Mode Face, especially when it’s directed at the freshmen. It’s cute, how they scurry away and do as they’re told.

Hoseok had tried, very eloquently, to explain de difference between an infected nipple and an infected dick. Had even used Google to provide visual aid. It had flown over the top of Hyunwoo’s very stubborn head and then he’d patted Hoseok’s cheek (rather patronizingly, he’d like to point out) and told him to wait outside.

The nerve.

Hyunwoo’s always been a man of his word; he held Hoseok’s hand for the whole 2.5 minutes it took to get his nipple pierced and then shooed him out of the room with a tiny curl of lips, eyes almost disappearing as he said, “I’m getting my dick pierced but I don’t need you to hold my hand. Just wait for me outside. Grab me a lollipop?”

Hoseok’s seen it. They’re roommates and they’ve been in each other’s pockets since freshman year and there was a point when there was only one working shower in the hall and, honestly, no one really knows what boundaries are anymore in the lockers either, not after years of this.

Besides, Hyunwoo’s not necessarily as shy as he pretends to be.

Everyone knows about it; the entire team even—they’ve run into each other naked more times than he’s willing to admit, all of them, it’s only _natural_ that he’s seen it. He tells himself it’s only natural he kind of wants to taste it, too.

So, the sad part—is it sad, though, Hoseok doesn’t know anymore—is that he thinks about it the most when he really, _really_ shouldn’t.

They’re still flushed with adrenaline and cheap champagne after an away game—Coach has been uncharacteristically cool so far because usually he won’t let them nowhere near alcohol, no matter if they won or lost a game, but it was Minhyuk’s birthday a couple of weeks ago and no one really got to celebrate because of practice. Hyungwon says, after the little celebratory reunion they’d held in the hotel’s restaurant, that they should hit a club and celebrate the proper way.

Coach levels them all with a stern look and says, “No freshmen allowed. If I find out any of you little runts—” he turns to find the freshmen, who blink innocently and full-off-shit at him “—have left your rooms, there will be hell to pay on Monday. Got it?”

So in the end it’s only Hyunwoo, Hoseok, Minhyuk and Kihyun who get behind Hyungwon’s idea; everyone else begs off to get a good night’s sleep before getting back on the road home for 6 hours, and also to watch The Babies (“I will beat your fucking ass, I swear to fucking god, hyung,” Changkyun yells, while being dragged by two equally exasperated Jooheon and Mingyu—who is rightfully the youngest but deals with the seniors’ shit better than anyone, Coach included).

This is how Hoseok ends up pressed up against some stranger in a club, sweaty and buzzed and horny because it’s been _ages_ since the last time he did this—anything like this, dancing and rubbing up against someone, getting physical.

Hoseok loves it, loves the spike of adrenaline mixing with the bass of the music, the heavy gaze setting upon him, loves the weight of hands on his hips, his waist, and even if it isn’t Hyunwoo, he’s all he can think about, and that has to be the saddest thing: thinking about your best friend slash roommate slash teammate while about to kiss someone else, and, god, kissing— _god_ , he’s missed kissing so _much_ —

There’s a warm hand cupping the ball of his shoulder through his t-shirt, a hand that doesn’t belong to the guy he’s dancing with because he can feel those cupping his ass—

“Whoa, hey, alright,” the guy says over the music, pulling away and looking over Hoseok’s shoulder with an amused smile. “I’ll see you around, man.” He’s swallowed up by the crowd and Hoseok’s left standing there, incredibly confused and aroused and feeling slightly like he’s about to burst out of his own skin and probably in tears, too, what the hell—

“We’re heading back to the hotel,” comes the shout through the music, and Hoseok turns to find the body attached to the hand on his shoulder.

He squints at Hyunwoo, at the hard look in his eyes and downward corners of his lips. He squeezes Hoseok’s shoulder once, gentle, a contrast to how tight everything about him looks right now: the set of his jaw, the curve of his shoulders, the cut of his jeans, and then nods back towards the exit. “Time to head back.”

“Okay,” Hoseok breathes, nodding dumbly and feeling heat spread down his cheeks and his throat at the way Hyunwoo holds himself under the pulsing beat of the music, the multicolored lights warm on his bare arms. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

The ride back to the hotel is—it’s _hell_. The cab is tiny and they fit in however they can; Hoseok ends up sitting half on top of Hyunwoo and half on top of Kihyun and it’s—too much, it’s too much, because Hyunwoo’s nose presses to the back of his neck, slides up in a feather-like trail and tucks into the back of his ear, and Hoseok can feel the press of his lips there, chapped and warm and _too much_ , and it takes great effort not to lean back into it because, like, _what the fuck is happening_.

Is Hoseok imagining this whole thing? It’s a possibility, right? Maybe it’s something he ate. Wouldn’t be the first time, either.

The guys are chatting loudly in the car, Minhyuk drunkenly singing to the song on the radio and Hyungwon pleading for him to stop, just stop, Minhyuk, they cannot witness him butcher a Lady Gaga song like this, so late at night. Hoseok laughs where it’s expected but Hyunwoo doesn’t even bother putting up an act, instead Hoseok can feel it when he wets his lips and the tip of his tongue touches the back of Hoseok’s ear and it’s like heat spreads under Hoseok’s skin in wild waves; he presses back this time because a treacherous little part in his brain whispers _why the fuck not,_ tilts his head and manages to bite back the moan that threatens to scape when Hyunwoo rolls his hips a bit so he can rub his half-hard dick against Hoseok’s ass and _holy shit, is that Hyunwoo’s dick rubbing up against him, what the fuck—_

Hoseok’s breath hitches, his hips moving back the tiniest bit so he can feel it again—

“We’re here,” Hyungwon declares from the front seat, and it takes about three and a half minutes to drag all five of them out of the cab.

It honestly feels like it takes forever and not enough, though, because Hoseok’s half-hard in his jeans and how is he supposed to stand like this out in the open where everyone could potentially see? He stands in the sidewalk and lets the cool air whip at his face for a bit, Hyunwoo hanging back to make sure they’re all sober enough to make it back to their rooms—he’s a good Captain, Hoseok has got to give him that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t also hate the guy a little bit, because he acts like nothing happened as they take the elevator up to the fifth floor, and continues to act like he didn’t have his dick, his _half hard dick—_ his half-hard, _pierced_ dick, holy shit, Hoseok’s brain is so slow on the uptake apparently—pressed to Hoseok’s ass in the car as he ushers everyone into their assigned rooms for the night.

It isn’t until they’re both in their own room—and Hoseok has potentially given himself a coronary because, like, _what the fuck does it all mean_ —that Hyunwoo finally, fucking _finally_ , grabs Hoseok by the waist and pulls him in so he can kiss him silly, dirty and hot and deep, Hoseok clutching at his shoulders to keep him there, _here_ , close.

Hyunwoo pushes him up the wall—or is it the door, he can’t tell—and groans, hot and from the depths of his chest, and Hoseok feels himself melt under his clothes, nothing but a mess of sweat and skin.

“God,” Hoseok gasps loudly, head thrown back against the door—huh, it _is_ the door—as Hyunwoo sucks kisses down the line of his jaw, “okay, this is happening, _okay,_ what the hell took you so long to do that.”

Hyunwoo’s hands are very big and very warm and _very possessive_ on Hoseok’s ass. “Was tempted, back at the club. If I’d done this in the elevator Kihyun would’ve had a conniption, though,” he answers with his mouth still on Hoseok’s neck. He hums, “And the others would’ve offered to watch. Minhyuk, especially.”

“We have very weird friends,” Hoseok admits, and lets Hyunwoo press a thigh in between his own and _— “Fuck, yes.”_

Hyunwoo chuckles lowly—what an asshole, how is Hoseok gonna recover from _that_ —and his hands move to the front of Hoseok’s jeans while he pulls his head back and smiles at him. “So enthusiastic. It’s cute.”

Hoseok slaps his arm, “Shut the fuck up and get undressed.”

They make it to one of the twin beds on sheer luck and stubbornness, because neither of them is keen on stopping the kissing or the groping enough to check which way is which. Hoseok lands on his back and Hyunwoo’s right there with him, on top of him, so big and so _real_ , his hands in Hoseok’s hair and his mouth so dirty Hoseok thinks he might come just from this.

The hands in his hair are gone after a bit and Hoseok misses them dearly; they find their way down to the hem of his shirt and oh, yes, Hoseok’s _so_ game, yes, undressing is a thing he’s gonna do—Hyunwoo sucks a little on his lower lip and Hoseok grips his arms so hard he thinks he might leave bruises. The idea kind of does things to his gut. His dick is _really_ on board with that, too.

“Off, off, take everything off,” he mumbles between kisses, and Hyunwoo smirks—Hoseok feels it pressed to his mouth and it is very fucking wonderful—and before he realizes they’re both naked and grinding against each other.

Now Hoseok thinks he might really just come from this. Except he really _really_ doesn’t want to.

“What do you want, Hoseok,” Hyunwoo asks softly between their mouths, one hand on Hoseok’s waist and the other one in his hair; he’s been using it to keep Hoseok’s head in place as they kiss and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing. Hoseok’s been, in turn, clutching at every Hyunwoo-surface he can get his hands on, which is a lot. God, his ass is _terrific._ “Tell me, Hoseok, what do you want.”

The drag of Hyunwoo’s dick along his own is like electricity, lights Hoseok up from the inside. He gasps at the feel of it, his thighs closing around Hyunwoo’s hips, trying to get him closer, _fuck_ , harder—

And oh, _oh_ , Hoseok had forgotten about it, _how_ could’ve he forgotten about it. 

“Fuck, I want you in my mouth,” he utters, arching into the touch and Hyunwoo’s mouth on his neck, his hands reaching for Hyunwoo’s dick to skim fingers up the length of it, “fuck, please, let me suck you off.”

Hyunwoo groans and bites gently at the skin where shoulder and neck meet. “You think about it, don’t you,” he asks in a hushed voice, his mouth on Hoseok’s collarbones and his hips rocking slow enough to drive Hoseok mad.

It makes Hoseok flush hotly, from the soles of his feet to the roots of his hair, skin hot wherever it comes in contact with Hyunwoo’s. Hoseok makes a noise behind his throat, tiny and embarrassing, _wanton_ , and Hyunwoo stops to look at him, _really_ looks at him then.

Hyunwoo’s hair is already messy as hell, eyes bright with wonder and skin flushed pink and warm. This is exactly what he looks like when he comes out of the pitch and that’s already a sight of its own, but Hoseok doesn’t think he’ll ever recover from this one because he actually _took part_ in it.

So, Hoseok says, “Yes,” in a whisper that is more air than sound at any rate, his fingers clutching at Hyunwoo’s waist. “Please,” he adds, because what the hell, they’re already here and Hyunwoo already _knows_.

In for a penny and all that.

“Okay,” Hyunwoo breathes, kisses the corner of his mouth, his jaw, leaves tiny, chaste kisses all over Hoseok’s face, leaving him fucking and utterly breathless, “okay, yeah.”

Hoseok pulls him in for another kiss—he’s _addicted_ now, fuck it—and lets it linger, gives it all he’s got because if this is a one-time thing he wants Hyunwoo as hooked as he feels. So he runs short nails through Hyunwoo’s scalp as he sucks on his tongue and lets Hyunwoo shudder on top of him until he’s nearly boneless, until Hyunwoo’s making tiny, hiccupping noises against his mouth and his hips rock in a steady, wonderful rhythm.

He lets Hyunwoo go with a soft nip to his lower lip. “Get on your back,” he rasps, and Hyunwoo breathes hard above him, eyes wild, before licking his lips and rolling to the side heavily.

And if Hoseok thought having Hyunwoo on top of him, naked and sweaty and wanting, was a sight, having him all splayed out—hair a mess, cheeks flushed, mouth a used pink, chest heaving like he just ran suicide drills, and dick hard and leaking already—in front of him is a whole religious experience. Hoseok might consider going back to church if only to keep the holiness of Hyunwoo smiling lazily at him alive and well.

“See something you like?” Hyunwoo asks, a smirk on his mouth, reaching for his dick to give it a few tugs. The low light of the bed side lamp glints shortly off the ring hooked through the tip of his cockhead.

Hoseok’s _ascending_ right now.

He watches that smirk curl deeper and wants to throw something at Hyunwoo, honestly, a lamp perhaps, most preferably himself. “Shut up,” he says, and rolls onto his hands and knees with surprising stability. Two can play this game, fucker. He smirks back. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Honestly? Not that impressive.”

Hyunwoo answers by throwing his boxers at Hoseok’s face. Hoseok bursts out laughing and flings the boxers across the room. Let Hyunwoo find them in the morning, see if Hoseok cares where they end up.

“Is that so,” Hyunwoo says, no heat in his words at all, smiling a tiny smile at Hoseok, pleased and _knowing_ , and Hoseok hates him, hates him so much he wants to kick him out of the room. But _ugh_ , Hoseok’s too gone on him already, which is just borderline pathetic at this point.

“I’m a man of my word. Seen better.” He licks his lips. “Had better.”

Hyunwoo lies there with his eyes and mouth open in surprise, and then a slow grin takes over his lips and Hoseok’s so _fucked_ here, because he knows that smile—it’s more of a smirk, really, but he’s seen that smile right before Hyunwoo goes all out on the field and the other team ends up crying, and Hoseok flushes, so fast and so hard he feels a little lightheaded.

“Guess I’ll have to prove you wrong,” Hyunwoo says primly, and crooks the fingers of his free hand—the hand that isn’t _playing with the ring on his dick_ —to beckon him closer.

He spreads his thighs to accommodate him and Hoseok gets a little lost on them, kisses the inside of a knee and feels the shudder ripple through the skin under his mouth. Hyunwoo sighs softly, still holding his cock in hand, and Hoseok looks up at him from where he is, kissing a trail up the inside of Hyunwoo’s thigh, feels bold at the look he gets and adds tongue and teeth until Hyunwoo’s squirming and holding the base tight between the ring of his fingers.

And this, Hoseok thinks, this is on a whole other level: desperation clings to Hyunwoo’s bitten lips, and even if Hoseok’d been the one admitting gagging for it just moments ago, he’s sure he could have Hyunwoo begging in a heartbeat. It’s kind of scary—Hoseok’s never been so certain about something before.

A part of him wants to say, _Next time—I’ll have you begging next time_ , but a larger, more realistic part of him knows better.

“Come on,” Hyunwoo whispers, licking his lips.

“You’re impossible,” Hoseok breathes, and it—it slips out, it wasn’t what he meant to say, and not in that tone, and definitely not looking at Hyunwoo like he’s _dying_ , like he’s dying to touch and kiss and taste. But it’s out there now and Hoseok doesn’t regret it.

There’s a small smile on Hyunwoo’s mouth. “Takes one to know one, I guess?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes—tension’s gone now, and he’s always admired this about Hyunwoo, to be honest, how easy it is for him sometimes to just say the right thing to make everyone at ease. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says, and before Hyunwoo gets to open his mouth to possibly quip something in return, Hoseok adds, “I’m gonna suck your dick now, please be quiet.”

Weird, he thinks as he drops one last kiss to the inside of Hyunwoo’s thigh, how this thing—all these things, actually—happening between them isn’t weird at all.

He starts slow, kisses the juncture of hip and thigh and lets his mouth linger, drags his lower lip up the soft curve of Hyunwoo’s balls, listening intently to the long, drawn-out exhale he lets out. He’s aware of leaving the best for last as he lets his tongue touch the base of Hyunwoo’s dick; sucks kisses there and up the length of it, slowly; he can feel Hyunwoo’s eyes on him like a touch he really can’t get enough of.

He wraps fingers around the base, and _oh_ , here Hoseok _has_ to stop, because it’s like his brain short-circuits at the sight before his very eyes; Hyunwoo’s dick is relatively similar to his in size, only slightly chubbier, flushed a pretty pink that darkens towards the head. The ring hooked through the tip is shiny and pretty nondescript, and fuck, Hoseok wishes they could fuck bare, wonders what it’d feel like inside of him, pressing up against his prostate, if he’d come on it alone.

His mouth waters. It's nothing like he thought, none of his wildest, 3am caffeinated thoughts could've come up with this.

“Is it sensitive?” he asks in a hushed tone, fingers gentle around the base to keep Hyunwoo’s dick steady. He remembers the first time he had sex after his nipple had healed completely—he’d come just from a mouth on it, barely any touch at all, so fucking sensitive he’d blacked out for a bit when the guy he’d been with had tugged on the tiny barbell with his lips.

Hyunwoo huffs a soft breath, one hand tentatively carding through Hoseok’s fringe. “Yeah, just—don’t tug on it too hard? I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” Hoseok breathes, and it’s unbelievable how much his mouth is watering, or how flushed he feels, just from this, from having his mouth on Hyunwoo’s dick and his hands on him, Jesus Christ, how is he going to survive this.

He kisses up the length of it once more, lets the flat of his tongue drag from the curl of his fingers all the way up till he can feel the smooth curve of metal. Hyunwoo lets out a tiny, hitched moan, and Hoseok looks up to him and finds his eyes glazed over, his cheeks burning pink, mouth parted in a gasp. He’s beautiful and looks ready to be ruined and Hoseok wants to, so much it aches physically.

There’s no beating around it now; Hoseok parts his lips and takes the tip and suckles at it, metal warming on his tongue, and Hyunwoo keens, his head thrown back into the pillow. Hoseok gets bolder with it, takes more of it in his mouth and lets his fingers meet the curl of his lips in slow strokes, keeps a slow, steady pace and only flushes harder when Hyunwoo whispers, “God, you’re so good at this, Hoseok.”

Pride swells in Hoseok’s chest, spreads up his face in hot waves and down his body to curl tight around his dick. Hyunwoo’s hips rock upwards a little and god bless Hoseok’s nonexistent gag reflex, because he can actually feel the curve of the ring slide across his palate. It feels fucking glorious.

Hoseok pulls off Hyunwoo’s dick slowly, lips pressed tight until the cockhead slips out with a ‘pop’. “Good?” he asks.

Hyunwoo makes an incoherent noise and Hoseok laughs through his mouth, jerking him off slowly, only to take the edge off a little, “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Hyunwoo laughs at this, too, bright and delighted, and Hoseok takes him back into his mouth, the tip only at first, letting his tongue flick the ring carefully. It makes Hyunwoo’s laughter die a strangled death, so Hoseok takes it as the rightful win it is and does it again. Hyunwoo’s thighs shake under Hoseok’s hands where he’s been keeping them gently pinned to the bed. He makes another whiny noise as Hoseok takes him back into the heat of his mouth, his hips rising off the mattress in an almost careful roll, and Hoseok hollows his cheeks, lets Hyunwoo thrust his dick a little further, a little harder.

Hoseok hums around the tip of Hyunwoo’s dick and it’s like it sets him the fuck _off_ , his hands are on Hoseok’s hair, the back of his neck, fingers gentle but firm. Hoseok leans into the touch and hopes Hyunwoo gets it, because there’s no fucking way he’s taking his mouth off him enough to say something—Hyunwoo _does_ get it, he starts rolling his hips on his own slow, careful rhythm, fucking Hoseok’s mouth with short thrusts.

Bracing both hands on the bed now, Hoseok spares enough energy to flick his eyes towards Hyunwoo and gauge him a bit. Hyunwoo’s got his lip caught between his teeth, his cheeks are flushed red, chest heaving for breath, and he looks _beautiful_. His eyes are trained on Hoseok’s mouth but they catch Hoseok’s gaze in the next thrust in, and he says, “Hoseok,” like it _hurts_ , like he’s just been punched in the gut. Hoseok swallows around the tip and hums again and takes him deeper, until he feels breathless with it and all he knows is the weight of the dick in his mouth, the taste of it, Hyunwoo’s fingers carding through his hair and touching his cheek gently.

He pulls off with a gasp for air and a moan that gets higher when the tip of Hyunwoo’s dick slides along his lower lip, the ring a smooth, wet glide. It’s the hottest thing and it makes Hoseok grind into the bed, ache between his legs and his fingers gripping the sheets under Hyunwoo’s hips. Hyunwoo says his name again but Hoseok’s lost to it; he parts his lips again and takes him back in and in and in and in until Hoseok feels _tight_ all over.

This time, when he pulls off, Hyunwoo’s fingers catch him by the chin, thumb tugging on Hoseok’s lower lip, “Fuck, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smirks at him and leans down to catch the head of Hyunwoo’s dick in his mouth again, tongue flicking the ring over and over until Hyunwoo’s fingers are tight in his hair, tight enough it hurts a little and Hoseok tastes precome on the flat of his tongue.

“You wanna come in my mouth?” Hoseok asks hoarsely—god, his throat feels _used_ , he fucking _loves_ it.

“I really don’t care where as long as I _get_ to,” Hyunwoo rasps. He sounds ruined.

Hoseok pulls away, kisses Hyunwoo’s tummy, lets his mouth drag up the length of his torso until he’s kissing along the dips of his collarbone. “In that case, I have a few ideas,” he says, and Hyunwoo curls both hands over his hips to pull Hoseok flush against him and, oh—yeah, that feels good, too, skin on skin, sweaty and slow and—

“You’re very distracting,” he tells Hyunwoo, curling his arms under Hyunwoo’s head. It comes out breathy and shot to hell, but Hoseok thinks the sentiment’s there anyway.

“Could say the same thing about you,” Hyunwoo mutters, his mouth pressed to Hoseok’s jaw. They’re rocking slow and slippery and Hoseok’s pretty sure he could come just like this, but—

“So, my idea,” he says, mouth hovering above Hyunwoo’s, “you wanna hear about it, or what.”

“ _God_ ,” Hyunwoo huffs, and leans up to kiss Hoseok wet and _dirty_ , all tongue and teeth, leaves Hoseok grinding harder and with intent, “next time. Now, right now let me—let me eat you out first. Yeah?”

How’s Hoseok gonna say no to that, exactly? Later, after he hopefully comes so hard he blacks out, he’s gonna ask about ‘Next time’. For now though, he sucks on Hyunwoo’s tongue while simultaneously trying to nod his head.

When he pulls away, Hyunwoo cups both hands around his ass and squeezes. It makes Hoseok rut against him a little harder, but Hyunwoo nips hard on his lower lip before he can get too into it and pulls back. “Get on your hands and knees,” he murmurs, their mouths still close together, one of his hands gentle on Hoseok’s side.

It takes astronomical levels of energy to do just that, it feels like, but Hoseok manages to roll off Hyunwoo and crawl up the bed a little and get on hands and knees. For all the training they do, Hoseok thinks he’s not gonna last very much on this position—his shoulders already feel tense enough but whatever, fuck it, he’ll be sore all week and he’ll fucking _love it_.

Hyunwoo’s behind him next, his hands on Hoseok’s hips, so large and warm Hoseok melts a little. He pushes his hips back, flushes when Hyunwoo makes an appreciative noise, bending down to kiss the dips at the base of Hoseok’s spine. Hoseok clutches the pillow under his fingers and pants at the sensation, at the touch of Hyunwoo’s tongue on his skin, sucking kisses down his back, wet and hot, until his tongue swipes, quickfire, at Hoseok’s hole.

A full-body shiver runs through him. Hyunwoo hums and grabs Hoseok by the ass, spreads him in a strong grip, tight enough it stings in the best way. Hoseok pushes into the touch, lets his weight drop on his elbows so he can shove his face into the pillow because Hyunwoo isn’t fucking around at all—his tongue is sure and firm and _everywhere_ , he licks up the crack and circles the tip around Hoseok’s rim and pushes in ever so slow until Hoseok’s keening around a mouthful of pillowcase.

He’s good, he’s _so_ good, and he tells Hyunwoo this in between gasps and hitched moans and pleas for more. Hoseok loses track of time as Hyunwoo eats him out, his dick hanging heavy and neglected between his legs. It’s the best kind of edging, honestly.

“Could come just from this,” he mutters, his thighs trembling with the effort of keeping up, but Hyunwoo’s supporting most of his weight with his hands, so Hoseok just lets it ride out. “God, yes, keep going,” he whispers when Hyunwoo thrusts his tongue a little harder, a little deeper. He hums around Hoseok’s asshole and Hoseok has to grip the pillow tight, _tight_ , and breathe past the wave of pleasure that starts in his gut and spreads like wildfire across his body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers, burying more of his face in the pillow. Hyunwoo chuckles deeply and leaves a soft bite at the curve of an ass cheek. Hoseok heaves for air as Hyunwoo pulls back to drop kisses up his back once more.

“Come on, get up,” Hyunwoo mutters to the skin of Hoseok’s shoulder blades, his hands on Hoseok’s hips, his sides, pulling him up gently. He nuzzles at the back of Hoseok’s ear, kisses just below his hairline, and before he knows it Hoseok’s propped up against his chest, and his hands are being lifted to brace on the headboard.

He curls his fingers tight around it. “Got lube and condoms?” he asks, hopeful, _so_ fucking hopeful—

“You know coach goes through our stuff,” Hyunwoo harrumphs. “’If I ain’t getting any, neither are you,’” he intones. God, his impression of Coach is dead-on.

He laughs, feels Hyunwoo’s laughter pressed to his back, his hands now circling Hoseok’s waist and Hoseok leans back into it, tilts his head to the side when Hyunwoo’s mouth finds the side of his neck. “You’re not gonna leave a guy hangin’, are you,” he asks.

Hyunwoo’s fingers skim up from each jut of hip bone, up Hoseok’s tummy and over his ribs—Hoseok gasps, shudders in the circle of Hyunwoo’s arms—and over his nipples. He’s slow and it drives Hoseok wild, he pushes back a little harder, his ass into Hyunwoo’s groin and _fuck_ , his dick slides wet and sweaty along the crack of Hoseok’s ass; he rocks his hips, a groan and Hyunwoo’s teeth pressed to the back of his neck.

A thumb catches around Hoseok’s nipple and he whines, his dick twitching. “Hyunwoo, please— _please_ ,” he starts, not sure what he’s asking for but needing everything, _anything_ , and he wraps shaky fingers around himself, stroking once, twice, in rhythm with Hyunwoo sliding his dick in between his asscheeks.

“C’mere,” Hyunwoo murmurs, that deep cadence of his voice wrapping around Hoseok’s throat like a vice. He holds Hoseok’s hips again, tugs on him and presses closer still until his thighs push Hoseok’s own thighs close together, knees at either side of Hoseok’s and the head of his cock slides wet across his hole, oh and there it is, the very clear touch of the ring hooked through the tip—

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Hoseok nods frantically, “yeah, come on, come on,” letting Hyunwoo maneuver him around until Hoseok’s clutching at the headboard and pressing his thighs so tight together he’ll definitely be sore in the morning. Hyunwoo’s draped all over him like a goddamn furnace—he feels bigger and hotter and like he could fuck Hoseok clean through the mattress if he put his mind to it, the sheer _strength_ of him so real—his hips, his thighs, his chest.

His dick pushes in between Hoseok’s thighs, Hoseok feels the tip nudge at his balls. The slide’s a little rough, but he’s leaking pre-come already and Hoseok’s sweating buckets, too. Hyunwoo touches him gently again, across his ribs, thumbs around his nipples, down in a hot trail to run nails up Hoseok’s thighs.

“Come on,” he breathes, “fuck me, come on.”

Hyunwoo takes him in hand in time with the first roll of his hips, his palm wet with spit. It’s slow and sort of perfect, Hoseok’s hips following the pace of Hyunwoo’s. Hoseok breathes out Hyunwoo’s name and feels his dick drip in Hyunwoo’s hand and he clutches at the headboard so hard his fingers ache a little. Hyunwoo kisses the back of his neck, the side of his throat, nips and licks at the skin he can reach and Hoseok leans back into it, into Hyunwoo body, his dick pushing so hard between his thighs, pierced cockhead nudging at his perineum every damn time.

“Come for me," Hyunwoo whispers, his fingers twisting just so, "please, Hoseok, I wanna feel you lose it."

How's Hoseok ever gonna deny him something when he asks so sweetly. Hoseok clenches his eyes tight and sucks his lower lip between his teeth and rides Hyunwoo’s fist, rides his dick, feels the orgasm build under his skin, every nerve singing under Hyunwoo’s touch.

He comes in tidal waves, in hitched breaths and shudders that ripple through him and chase along Hyunwoo’s skin, and he’s coming, too, Hoseok can feel it, distantly, like he’s under water, and Hyunwoo gasps against the back of his neck, bites onto Hoseok’s nape and comes between his legs and it’s like Hoseok comes again, _again_ , it never really stops.

Hyunwoo holds him up, his free arm—the arm that isn’t currently attached to the hand still tight around Hoseok’s dick and milking it for what it’s _worth_ —curled over his chest, warm and big and protective, his palm spread over Hoseok’s ribs.

Later, much later, after Hyunwoo’s managed to drag Hoseok into the shower, and after they’re both rumpled and mostly dry and clothed on one of the singles—and after Hoseok had almost had his second heart attack in less than three hours when Hyunwoo had leaned across the tiny bathroom vanity to kiss the side of Hoseok’s neck and said, “I really like you, Hoseok, you know that, right,” and then followed along with, “Let’s go out once we’re back in the city—for real, though, none of that ‘coffee and sex’ nonsense Hyungwon talks about,” which had lead to a lot of making out against the bathroom door and Hoseok agreeing, “Yes, definitely for realsies,” almost desperately—Hyunwoo reaches into the space between them and links their pinky fingers together.

Considering it’s a tiny bed and they’re both huge as hell, there’s not a lot of space to begin with.

“Do you ever think about going professional?” Hyunwoo asks. It’s pretty late into the night—or it could be early in the morning, it’s hard to tell.

Hoseok’s almost ready to drift off. It takes a bit of time to get the words out. He hums. “Yeah, sometimes. I’ve had… offers. I don’t know yet, graduation’s still a few months off.” He kisses the curve of Hyunwoo’s shoulder, over his t-shirt. “You? You thinking of what you’ll do after?”

Hyunwoo nods sleepily against his pillow. “I’ve got some options, too. Just gotta, like, sit down and think them through, I guess.” He smiles. “If football doesn’t work out, I can always work in accounting with my dad. Things are covered, I guess.”

“Don’t see you as an accountant,” Hoseok says, smiling. “You know you belong to the pitch. You love it; it loves you right back, buddy.”

Hyunwoo smiles sideways. “You really think so?”

“Had to be a fool not to notice,” Hoseok answers honestly. 

“Thank you,” Hyunwoo says quietly, and wiggles until he’s closer—god, he’s so _warm_ , Hoseok’s never gonna sleep alone after tonight, that’s for damn sure—and their hands are twined together under the blankets.

“Anytime,” Hoseok answers, meaning it.

**Author's Note:**

> oh god, bro. i feel like i baked this bad boy for 9 straight (hah) months only for it to come out of the oven pretty undercooked still. listen, i don't necessarily like this one. i got pretty into the idea of hyunwoo having a dick piercing but y'all know me. 
> 
> i do like the idea of football au and showho going pro. or *GASP* them playing for rival teams and having to keep their relationship a sECRET. sign me the fuck up for that.


End file.
